


In Restless Dreams

by TinyHannah



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dante breaks him some more, Emotions, Gen, Heavy Angst, Vergil is broken, grief and regret, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyHannah/pseuds/TinyHannah
Summary: Dante leaves hell, Vergil follows later to rebuild his life.Twenty years of grief have left their mark on Dante and he struggles to find it within himself to forgive his brother.





	In Restless Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This was largely inspired from something completely different, and I'm so sorry that this is what happened.

Dante leaves hell first, he walks away and leaves Vergil. Again. 

Somewhere deep down he had expected that this may be the only way things could be, that Vergil would want to stay in hell whilst he returned to his life. Still, he had allowed himself to hope for something different.

Enough time passes that the last glimmer of that hope Dante had been holding onto has had a chance to fade. He has had time in these couple of months to promise himself that this is the last time - that he really won’t put himself through this again. 

He won’t put himself through this again. 

He won’t place his faith in his brother like this again, the pain of being let down time and time again is too much to bear and he’s pretty sure that he’s reached his breaking point. This really is the last time, and Dante says his goodbyes to Vergil once again. 

Hearing a knock at the door late at night is nothing new for Dante, it happens from time to time but never gets less irritating. He pulls himself from his chair, rubbing the edge of sleep from his eyes and shakes the weariness from his muscles as he crosses the room to open the heavy oak door.

The last person he expected to see standing outside in the pouring rain was his brother. 

Vergil is not sure what he expected turning up here, and it’s not like him to be so lost for words, but he can’t even manage a greeting. The words stick in his throat and he finds he can’t even meet his brother’s eye. Or maybe it’s that Dante can’t meet his. 

Dante looks at him standing there in the pouring rain, looking more than a little worse for wear, but he can’t bring himself to find any emotion. There is no fanfare, no welcome home party deserved, not even an acknowledgement or a ‘hello’. Dante stares, listens to the silence, and steps to one side and watches as his brother walks into his life again. 

Twenty years of grief hold fast. Those feelings do not fade, and watching his brother stand in the middle of his life again, gives rise for those emotions to bubble up again. They are bitter, raw – they hurt almost physically and leave a bad taste in his mouth. Everything that Dante has been through has been because of Vergil, and now he’s waiting for the next thing to happen, the next thing that will let him down.

He has guarded himself, but he is not cold like Vergil, instead he has wrapped himself in layers of barbs. A layer of thorns to protect him from harm. He is bitter and the spiteful words come just as easily as drawing a blade, and when used correctly, they hurt just as much. 

Dante watches him struggle, watches him as he struggles to fit into this life – into this world. The grace with which he was used to seeing Vergil move is gone, and has been replaced with an awkward, jarring gait that looks wrong on his twin. Seeing that alone is enough to frustrate him and make him want to lash out – everything looks wrong and feels wrong and the anger makes him irrational. Now that Vergil is here again, Dante doesn’t know how to process these feelings in any other way but with fire and fury.

Everything Vergil does, everything he says, even just breathing the same air as him makes Dante want to scream. It all feels wrong, this is not going to work, he cannot make this work, there is no way to make this settle into what they need, what they want, or at least what he would have wanted twenty years ago. Now he is not sure that he wants this, he wants instead to forget, to let it go and accept that there are just some things that he cannot fix.

Dante can’t let go of the things he has done, he can’t move past the hurt, the betrayal, the things he has watched his brother do over the years. He can’t erase the memories, and he can’t undo what has been done.

Deep down there is a tiny part of him that knows Vergil is trying, but that tiny part has been broken and disappointed one too many times and he can’t bring himself to listen to it or trust it – he can’t listen to or trust Vergil. 

The tiny part that wants to give Vergil one more chance is shouted down by his better demons, it shouts him down with all the things that he knows he should listen to… “why now”, “what is he going to do differently this time”, “he’s had his fucking chance and he doesn’t deserve to have a life”. 

So, he pushes those thoughts further within himself, wraps himself in more layers of spikes and thorns and lashes out instead. 

“What’s wrong Vergil, not quite enough death and destruction around for you today, I’m guessing it’s been a good long while since you caused some pain… you’re looking a little lost there…” 

There is no warmth behind the words, no affectionate teasing between siblings. There is only spite, bitterness, a cold edge that is so unlike the few shattered memories that Vergil still has of his brother. 

Lost is the word. Vergil is beyond lost and he doesn’t know how to do any of this. Demons are simple creatures, there is no need to navigate the complexity of human emotion, it can be a simple right or wrong, black and white, yes or no – there are no grey areas. Here though, in this world – in Dante’s world - there is a complexity, and he doesn’t know how to speak of these things, and each time he tries he is shot down so fast by his brother he can only assume that he is getting it wrong yet again.  
The days and weeks pass, and they creep into months and it doesn’t get easier. Vergil learns to sleep again but he doesn’t learn to stop the nightmares. He wakes up screaming, drowning in sweat and fear and it takes him a few minutes to ground himself, to shake the wolf from the door and remind himself that he’s back, he’s safe, he is safe. 

The nightmares are nothing new, demons calling for him, reaching for him, tearing at his body and flesh, and usually they are faceless and he’s accepted that, but these last few nights he thought he’d started seeing them with his own face, until one morning looking over the breakfast table he realises it is his brother’s eyes that have been haunting him at night. 

They both should have known that they would end it in a fight. It’s what they’ve always done and really, they have never learnt how to do it differently. The fight is frantic and raw, emotions running high, with teeth and fists and claws doing just as much damage as their weapons. Sharpened words, meant to cut deep, meant to hurt, and meant to deliver as much bite as a blade. And before Dante knows what’s happened, he’s turned Vergil’s own weapon on him, and leans his weight into the blade resting across his brother’s throat. 

Dante feels the tension leave Vergil’s body, he watches as his shoulder’s drop and he gives up the fight. 

“Do it. It’s what you’ve been waiting for this entire time, do it and make it final this time.”

Dante drops the blade and staggers back. This isn’t what he wants, this is not what he wants. To end it all so quickly seems merciful, too quick, this should be prolonged. Dante is ready for Vergil to suffer as he has these long years. He wants him to see how a slow break down feels, to have all the things he’s known chipped away – it should be slower, agonising, tormenting, unbearable. 

He wants Vergil to feel his pain, he doesn’t want him to have an out, and he barks a laugh at his brother.

“I want you to understand, I want you to feel this, I want it to mean something to you, twenty years you were gone, twenty years, and each time I saw you, you really managed to pull a dick move. You hurt me, you hurt your son, you hurt every damn thing you went near, and you have never once done good in your life. So now I want you to hurt too.”

Dante walks away with a sneer twisting his face. He hadn’t realised just how much hatred he was holding on to all this time, but finally having an outlet for it felt good, it felt freeing, it was what he needed to move himself past it. He could let himself heal, finally, and let go of the past. Dante could heal; though the healing of one brother would come at the price of the destruction of the other.

Vergil had nothing. There was nothing here for him. No one that wanted him to try to be better, no one with a shred of faith left so was it worth it, weakly trying and stumbling through this life, or were demons never really meant to exist in this world. He could survive in hell, more than survive, he could thrive, he could rule, he could be someone. It would be so easy to walk away now and never look back, he could rip a portal here in this room, and he doubts anyone would miss him, least of all his brother. 

He stands and draws the Yamato.

**Author's Note:**

> [Caillieach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caillieach/pseuds/Caillieach) [Zyrielle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Septembre_Rain) you guys are awesome, thank you for letting me yell about this, and I am sorry again <3


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